Mara's Wedding Day
by AuraThundera
Summary: Mara muses on New Republic politics and their impact on her wedding to Luke.


MARA'S WEDDING DAY   
Aura Thundera   
deonii@yahoo.com

These characters aren't mine and I'm not making any profit off this.   
~   
I can hear the crowd outside-   
They cheer their hero's wedding day.   
Their jubilation is for his happiness,   
Not mine-   
For it ws my blade that thirsted   
To taste his blood and spill   
That liquid on the thirsty earth.   
It was my lord, though! The man   
Who once overruled us all-   
Who commanded me to take   
And leave my now-lover   
To die on the cold hard ground.   
My lover-   
The man whom I will marry-   
He is the hero of the people   
And I am their hated enemy.   
He loves me, yes, and cares not   
About the past or what they may say.   
But their joy still is only for him.   
The crowd in the hall   
Is much more quiet, but-   
I hear the hiss of their whispers.   
They are his friends: heroes   
And leaders, all!   
And there are also my friends   
Down there; at least they speak   
No ill word of me.   
But they once were on the   
Very fringes of law, once.   
Last come the politicians,   
Unwanted by either of us, but-   
They had to be invited, lest   
Their people see insult that   
Their representative was left   
From the hero's wedding day.   
Marriage is for love, not-   
These petty Senate squabbles.   
If I had my way, they   
Would be out in the street-crowd.   
It is they who are muttering   
Their twofaced comments-   
The politicians are the whisperers!   
It is they who say that I am   
Not suitable for their hallowed hero!   
Each would have my lover, husband   
To marry his own daughter, for   
In their words, their daughters are   
Right-raised to honor the Republic-   
As if saving it is not doing honor to it!   
They would use their hero son in law   
For their own political gain.   
And I have seen those girls they raise-   
Giddy, vacant fluff - contemptible!   
They have no regard for love, only-   
An eye for a politic marriage.   
Each wants to be tied to his family.   
If only he were no hero-I wish-   
Our wedding day in a vine-shaded   
Temple hall-in a circle of friends alone!   
But wishes are wasted time, and things   
Cannot be as I would have them.   
I have walked two paths, one-   
All shadowed and dark, the other   
Shining and purer than anything   
Those muttering hypocrites below   
May ever, ever know, for my   
Lover showed it to me in love!   
I am better than them by far, above   
Their petty squabbles which they   
Imprinted on their "chaste" daughters.   
I am better than they, better wife   
Will I make to their hero! I have seen   
Him reject those proper "maidens"-   
They grabbed him by the cloak and   
Cried that he was evil, because   
He would not dance in their arms,   
Their arms that seduced a hundred   
Important and handsome men before him   
They said that and more;   
That I was a prostitute and concubine-   
They lie like the dogs they are-I am   
More virgin than they, for with   
Every handsome man, they have   
Committed thought-copulation, but   
My mind stays on the task at hand,   
It does not stray to the loins   
Of the nearest good-looking man!   
I dream of the man I will marry-   
And I dream of the taste of his kiss.   
They too dream of the man I will marry-   
And they dream of his manhood.   
They wish his bed to boast of-   
They would have him only to say-   
"Look at me, the hero is my husband   
I bear his heirs in my body-   
And you can't-" Selfish!   
In course of my life I allowed men   
To take my body, but raped was I   
In soul! And that my love can forgive-   
But a braggart I know he hates!   
Perhaps I am too bitter and hard-   
Against those who know no other way.   
But I hate a hypocrite!   
They claim chastity, but what is that   
To a woman who sleeps with every man   
And would so snare a hero?   
My love, he taught me truth-   
To be what I would wish to seem.   
I am not so transparent as they-   
And that frightens them, that   
I am what I seem, a warrior   
My husband to be is a warrior too-   
I understand what is in his soul!   
Can they understand a warrior?   
Would they even bother to try?   
No I think they would not!   
All they want is appearance, a dazzling   
Man, blonde and heroic, decorated with saber   
And war-medals, all they see is his face.   
He would not find happiness ever   
In one of their arms, for they would   
Laugh at the grievances of his soul   
Thinking them but a silly joke, but I   
Understand the reality of his troubles.   
The music is starting, the whispers are hushed.   
My love is in the Great Hall already.   
The time draws near that I must face   
The accusing stares of a hundred politicians.   
They accuse me of stealing their hero   
From their supposedly pure daughters, yes,   
They think that yet I would murder him   
In his marriage bed. But what is   
An accusation to me? I have had thousands.   
And none-or few-were ever true.   
What have I to fear? I have done naught.   
His sister is calling; I must go.


End file.
